


Bake my way into your heart

by captainhurricane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baking, Cooking, M/M, Reality TV, Slight pining, Social Media, fake tweets, masterchef australia!AU, mentioned in a couple of sentences, side ships are Hance and Lotura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 06:32:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14731749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: Country pumpkin Shiro and rancher's boy Keith take part in MasterChef. Somehow in the middle of filming and cooking classes they find the time to fall in love.





	Bake my way into your heart

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to winterysomnium for providing me with a couple of those fake tweets ("Shiro's souffle did nothing wrong" and "I'm so thirsty for Keith you might...." "how flat are you?")

Unlike the usual reality tv-contestant, Keith doesn’t actually come with a tragic backstory or a particularly happy one. His life is just his life, full of dreams of space-flight, fixing cars and motorcycles and dating a random assortment of people before going back home to his neat little apartment in the center of Melbourne.

 

He’s lived in three countries his whole life and fifteen different cities, had eaten dozens upon dozens of different dishes from all of those and particularly fallen for the Australian way. Neither his mother, possibly a secret government agent - at least to a six-year-old Keith who had asked her why she’s never home - or his father, a regular neighbourhood mechanic, are particularly surprised when Keith informs them he wants to open a restaurant.

 

Keith’s loved food and cooking all his life. It’s just the part where it’s entirely public and there are going to be millions of eyes on him constantly where his parents have questions.

 

All Keith says is that he can handle it. And that he already has a dish in mind to cook for the judges that he knows to be rather hardasses: sue him that he’s watched all the previous seasons of Masterchef Australia and it’s partly been the reason for motivating him to keep cooking. 

His bravure is still the galaxy-themed cake for his baby cousin’s birthday. She had cried. From sheer joy. 

 

Now he’s armed with proper ingredients and facing dozens other hopefuls. His first on-camera interview is vaguely terrifying. He introduces himself - Keith, 26, from Melbourne, I wanna open a restaurant - and chit-chats a bit about excitement. He hides his shaking hands under his thighs as he sits, waiting for his turn to cook for the chance to get an apron.

 

That he will get. His mind is buzzing with ideas, heart stuttering with excitement. Even he grins at the shouts of joy and sympathy that begin echoing in the large room the Masterchef-hopefuls are in. 

 

Soon the cameras begin to feel like nothing, like just another few staring pairs of eyes. He tells the cameras and the audience about his plan to do some crispy pork with all the flavours he loves. 

 

Keith gets his hands dirty, keeps his mind on the task but manages to smile a few times, even answer the cheers from his fellow hopefuls. There’s magic in the air, a budding hope that lights him up from the inside. 

 

Among those cheering for him, soon to be cooking himself, is one Takashi Shirogane. 

 

Now this guy also has no tragic backstory, nothing particularly tear-jerking except for his intense love for his mother who taught him how to cook since he was knee-high. Now Takashi Shirogane, Shiro to most of the world, towers over most people and sports muscles that would make the Rock offer a fistbump. Working as a personal trainer to more than his fair share of famous people, Shiro has kept his feet firmly in the ground but his mind in the sky. He keeps himself humble, works in homeless kitchens, only rents a small, simple apartment at the border of Sydney and has over four hundred Facebook-friends, most of them that do actually know him, most of them who he actually meets in his daily life.

 

It’s because of those friends that he’s here today, ready to make his pork dumplings and his sauce for the esteemed judges of the Masterchef-kitchen. He’s been on television before but never quite like this: he’s never been the focus. There’s never been a chance for millions of people to see him fall apart under pressure on national television. He keeps those thoughts under wraps, under amiable smiles and lets himself drown into the excitement of the others.

 

He knows none of these people in here but he cheers for them no less. Their joy and hope and excitement is contagious. His friend is here for him, whispering encouragements to him and rubbing his back. Shiro’s grateful for their presence so he’s smiling once it’s finally his turn. 

 

He listens for the shouts of joy as more and more of those precious aprons are given away. Don’t sweat it, Shiro, don’t sweat it, he keeps murmuring to himself as he rolls up the dough and cheerfully chats about himself to the cameras. They’d already introduced him - Takashi Shirogane, 30, a personal trainer, born in Chiba, Japan - but now they want to hear about his dish. 

 

He tears up when he talks about his mother Tomoko and blushes when he hears his friend shout at him that he’s a mama’s boy. 

 

“And proud of it,” he says with a smile. Shiro’s never been embarrassed by it. He tells the cameras that his mother is probably going to watch this at some point, she’s been excited to see him. As is his father Akihiko, probably dragged in front of the Shirogane house’s old and cranky television. 

It makes Shiro smile when he thinks of it. The heat of his pans bring a flush to his cheeks and he keeps wiping his white locks away from his sweaty forehead. He only lifts his head when he hears yet another cheer. There goes another apron. And another. Shiro’s watched enough of this show to know how many aprons go in the first round and Shiro hopes desperately he’ll be one of them. 

 

It’s a step closer to opening his fusion-restaurant for people like him: nobody is going to be turned away at the door. Every dish is going to be full of healthy deliciousness. Maybe even the decor will be green. Or red. That’s Shiro’s favourite colour, as it reminds him of sunsets, roasting marshmallows by the fire at the beach with his friends, getting his first kiss, love - and oddly enough, the bandana one of his fellow competitors wears.

 

It catches Shiro’s eye as the person comes out of the judging room, holding a triumphful grin and an apron. 

 

That grin stays in Shiro’s mind all the way to the moment when all of the 24 competitors have been chosen and they all stand together, proud and excited. The person with the bandana is one row away from Shiro, the light catching the single silver earring on the person’s ear.

 

*

*

**Nina** @ninarssons

Wow what a wild first ep as usual!  #MasterChefAU

 

**Savantgarden** @c.a.therine

I’ve watched all the previous seasons and i’m so fricking amazed these people are homecooks, did u guys see that hunky personal trainer guy tho  #MasterChefAU

 

**Springbitch** @honeycombs

_ In answer to user @c.a.therine _

Oh boy did I EVER. I’m so glad he got in, his dumplings looked _amazing_ also he seemed really sweet  #MasterChefAU

 

*

*

The house they’re staying at is massive. The 24 finalists quickly find their preferred places, most of them drifting towards the huge kitchen. There are already people chattering like old friends, shyer ones still drifting back. 

Keith has never made friends easily so he focuses on what he knows here: the food. The two fridges in the kitchen are already well-stocked, intended to be used by the contestants when they are not filming. Keith fully intends to take advantage of that. 

 

He introduces himself to the few who stick out their hands to him but doesn’t make a particular attempt to do it himself. 

 

There are ideas to work on, clearly, things to practice on, obviously. Yet Keith’s head is buzzing with ideas for breakfast, for evening snacks, for weekend foods. He’s already taking out a few vegetables to prepare for tomorrow when someone coughs next to him.

 

Keith pulls his hair into a ponytail, ties it up with his usual red bandanna. He straightens and only then meets the eyes of a hunk. There’s no other word for the man who has offered a hand to him. 

“I think you’re the only one I have yet to say hello to,” the man says.

Keith’s gaze runs up and down the man’s body, notices the intriguing prosthetic arm, the white t-shirt that’s probably tighter than the man means it to be - all the way to that delightful white fringe, now casually swept away from his face. 

“Hi,” says Keith and grabs the offered hand. He smirks. “I’m Keith.” 

“I’m Shiro.” Shiro has a very firm grip. “I know we’re against each other but I still hope we get along. Have you picked a room yet?” 

“Which room are you in?” 

Shiro pulls his hand back. There is a top bunk that’s still free. His cheeks bloom hot. “T-the one at the back. There’s a bunk still free.” 

Keith grins. “That. I’ll take that then.” He tilts his head. 

Shiro’s cheeks bloom pink. “I - I was just curious. That’s an, uh, interesting earring you have there.” He scratches his chin and shifts weight from one foot to another.

Keith’s finger taps on said earring, the little key-shape catching the light. “Ah, yes. Thanks, big guy. It’s a memento.” He pats Shiro’s bicep. “Help me out will you?” 

And to Shiro’s own surprise, he does.

 

*

*

 

**Kelly** @katamaris

My faves so far are Teddy, Elle, Deepika and Shiro. Such an intriguing array of talents and personalities! It helps they’re all cute as heck. #MasterChefAU

 

**Nina** @ninarssons

Unpopular opinion: but I’m interested in Keith the most. I had a couple of other faves but they’ve already been eliminated (boo!) but Keith always has such cool ideas!  #MasterChefAU

 

**Jacob’s girl** @shadowofwind

Keith and his knives lol  #MasterChefAU

 

**Love, Catherine** @birbprincess

Eh I don’t like Keith much. He always looks so pissed, like he doesn’t wanna be there. Shiro doesn’t seem to think so. Is it just me or does he stare at Keith a lot? #MasterChefAU

 

**Love, Christie** @principessa

_ In answer to user @birbprincess _

GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL idk if it’s just the editing but my love senses are tingling. Keith does wear a lot of tight pants… I wouldn’t blame Shiro for staring.  #MasterChefAU

 

*

*

They film the opening video of the show in one chaotic day. The crew is organized, as they have done it often enough before, but the contestants end up with giggling fits more often than not. Shiro manages to cover his arms in flour, but at least his part ends up adorable. Keith gets to show off his knife skills. 

 

“Good job, Shirogane,” Keith says after they have all eaten lunch - tiny gourmet sandwiches and an incredible amount of coffee and tea - and can watch others film their segments. 

“Good job, Kogane,” Shiro says and pats Keith’s shoulder. He lets his hand stay there. 

 

Keith bites his lip and winks. 

 

*

 

The first week rolls by incredibly quickly. The first elimination is a shock: Teddy Altman had been a fan favourite, but a basic, silly mistake had sent him to the first pressure test and then out of the kitchens entirely. 

 

The second week rolls on just a quickly. Keith makes spicy seafood pasta and cuts his finger once. He shrugs it off. He gets comments on his handling of flavours but dismissal of his chaotic techniques. Shiro makes sweet potatoes with miso butter and a side of chives and steamed, coloured rice. He gets compliments on everything, but especially his neat and organized way of working. He’s easily top three of the day. The work side by side when they can and bump elbows when they’re at their busiest. 

 

They both tell the cameras about their dishes, but Keith keeps his smiles to himself, Shiro smiles like the picture-perfect coverboy that he is. Once the cooking is all done, Shiro pulls Keith into a hug and whispers that he did a wonderful job. Keith squeezes him back a little too long and whispers something back that the cameras don’t catch. They’re both smiling and patting each other on the shoulders when they part. Shiro’s hand lingers on Keith’s shoulder a breath too long. 

 

In the evening, after a long day of filming, after a nice long dinner cooked by their fellows from the room next door, Keith grabs Shiro by the arm and leads him to the pool. 

“I don’t think I should get my prosthetic wet,” Shiro says. “Then again, that was mostly about swimming in salt water.”

Keith, in the middle of stripping his shirt, lifts an eyebrow. “Oh, right. Then you can just watch me swim.” 

Shiro bites the inside of his cheek and settles on one of the lounge chairs. “Or I could study like a good boy.” 

 

Keith tosses his shirt at Shiro who grabs it with a smile and grabs one of the cookbooks from the neat little shelf placed strategically next to the lounge chairs, right underneath this huge sunshade.  “Jesus. They really don’t want us to think about anything but cooking.” 

 

“Don’t be so dull, Shirogane!” Keith yells before jumping swiftly into the pool. 

 

“You need to learn more too, Kogane!” Shiro shouts back and scrolls through the book. He lifts his gaze again when he hears sloshing.

 

Keith stands in front of him, dripping wet. “Learn more too, huh?” Keith smirks. “You gonna teach me finesse?” 

 

Shiro swallows, eyes rather helplessly following the long, long lines of Keith’s legs. “I - uh - I just mean - “ 

 

Keith rolls his eyes. “Just fucking with you, Shiro. I can still beat you in this competition even though I, and I quote, lack finesse, unquote.” 

 

“I’d like to see you try,” Shiro says. He can’t hold back a grin. To his delight, Keith grins back. 

 

“But honestly, dude. I’m no good with desserts. I don’t really even eat them. But you - you’re good at everything. Teach me your ways, master.” Keith flops himself down to the lounge chair next to Shiro. 

 

Shiro rubs his neck, feeling oddly warm. “Aw, I just. I’ve been baking and cooking with mom since I was a child. It’s just kind of something I do.” It’s all thanks to his mother anyway: she’s holding onto recipes from generations past and now he’s gotten them too, hopefully to be passed onto his own children. There’s no greater joy in Shiro’s life than making something that brings a smile to people’s faces. He loves his job as a personal trainer but it’s not something he wants to do for the rest of his life. 

 

Keith’s watching him with his head tilted. “Your face does light up whenever you’re cooking. Like it’s something that you truly love. I haven’t seen you stressed almost at all during the competition. Yet.”

 

The warmth spreads deeper on Shiro’s face. He lifts the book to his face. “I have been stressed. I guess I know how to hide it.” 

 

“I guess you do. Like I said. Teach me your ways, sensei.” Keith winks. 

 

Shiro groans. “Please don’t call me that.” But he’s smiling. He kind of likes it. 

 

*

 

Come morning, the MasterChef kitchen has changed. Their usual working stations have been moved to the sides and there are a numerous amount of tiny round tables and chairs spread out all over.

 

Instantly everyone guesses what’s going on. Keith squeezes Shiro’s wrist quickly. Shiro squeezes Keith’s hand.

 

“Look at you all, bright and early and chipper,” snarks one of the judges. “I hope those smiles are going to stay on your faces all day as it’s time for your first team challenge!” The judges share looks as the contestants begin whispering among themselves. Keith nudges Shiro with his boot. 

 

“We are going to be having two teams. Red. And blue. And both are going to be making a three course meal for 30 guests, ourselves included, of course - “ the judge continues to prattle on about the instructions. The contestants share looks, nudge each other, already chosen teams in mind. 

 

Shiro nudges Keith. They had had some sweetness in their moments in the Masterchef-kitchen last night and the night before, as it is the turn of their room to cook for the whole house. And Shiro’s hand had found Keith’s more often than not, guiding him through the motions of making a pastry. 

 

Now Shiro’s eyes stray towards that stray bit of hair falling out of Keith’s bun. He had tucked that same strand behind Keith’s ear last night. 

 

“Focus,” Keith whispers. 

 

Shiro flushes and bites his lip. He is concentrating. But him and Keith had started to get closer than anyone else in the entire competition. 

 

Shiro had picked up on the fact that he had been asked about Keith a lot. And he had given his honest opinion that Keith is a firecracker, incredible inventive and eccentric in the kitchen and Shiro can only hope to possess such an imagination. Shiro had absolutely refused to dismiss Keith in any way. 

 

He can only hope Keith has told the cameras the same.

 

It is a hard hit when they are sorted into opposing teams.

“You are going down, Shirogane,” Keith says. 

“Nice, fair fight, Kogane,” Shiro says.  _ I would go down for you happily. But I still want to win this competition and if it means beating you, I will do it. _

 

“Ooh, a little rivalry going in your friendship there, guys,” one of the judges snark. 

 

“Just friendly little banter,” Keith counters easily. He accepts his red apron. 

 

Shiro accepts his blue one. It’s not that he’s not happy about his team: he’s got few of the strongest ones on his side, himself included. Yet Keith is the one he’s closest to, the one that takes the opportunity to actually sit down and get to know him. Keith isn’t that close with anyone else. 

 

Shiro throws one last look at red team before the blue one goes to their own workstation to start working. Keith winks at him.

 

Shiro’s cheeks continue to glow, his smile not even wavering when his teammates start to elbow him. 

“Let’s just focus, guys, we have a lot of food to plan and prepare,” he huffs. He’s certain he’ll soon be too busy to even care what the other team is doing. 

 

On the other side of the kitchen, the red team begins to gather themselves and their small menu. Deepika, an Indian marketing director, has been assigned captain and gets into it with the fierce force of a steam train. Keith’s smile has vanished, his frown deep as he’s assigned to, not the main one - pork loin and sides - but dessert. 

 

He’s horrible at dessert. He hates making it. He kind of dislikes eating dessert, except for the ones Shiro makes. And this one, although it’s orange sorbet next to a sweet slice of cheesecake, isn’t one of Keith’s worst nightmares, there is a knot in his stomach no less. 

 

It doesn’t help that the one next to him is the self-dubbed dessert king Coran. And Coran is chatty. It’s like the having a duracell-bunny on steroids next to him, blabbering away about balance of texture and taste. Keith closes his ears to it and lets himself run on pure adrenaline. Since this is the first team challenge on the competition yet, it feels extra daunting. 

 

Keith is well aware he doesn’t always deal with pressure well and internalizes it. The heavy weight chokes him. But his hands stay steady, even as Coran elbows him twice and steps on his toes thrice and makes his inane, unnecessary comments. 

 

Once the first course gets out, they get harder into work. 

 

Keith spots Shiro a few times, towering over most, unfairly handsome even with a flush of exertion on his cheeks. But they have no time for quips at each other or even a high five. Their teams plow through the courses, through the buzz of their respective work stations. Once the judges announce the end of service, the tension slides off the room instantly, leaving only panting, flushed, exhausted contestants and well-fed visitors. 

 

*

  
  


“Never thought I’d see you in blacks,” Eliza says and elbows Shiro. She’s been solid until this point herself, but even the best ones make mistakes and sometimes ending up at the bottom isn’t even anyone’s fault. Their group effort just wasn’t enough this time. 

 

“Looks good on me though,” Shiro says and pats her on the back. Shiro knows what most of the pressure tests are, has seen horror on the contestants’ faces in earlier seasons and in previous eliminations and he’s quietly excited. He places his hands behind his back and stands straight, keeps a smile on his face. 

 

That smile wavers once they are all sat down by a large table, blindfolded.

 

“Oh shit,” says one of the contestants on the balcony. 

“You’re gonna do great, Shiro,” says Keith, smiling. What he doesn’t say however, is that he rather likes the look of the blindfold on his friend’s face.

Susanne, next to Keith, elbows him and whispers: “I see you, just cheering for your best buddy.”

Keith snorts. “What can I say, I have the utmost faith in him that he’ll come out of this a winner.” 

 

Down at the table, the poor fellows to be eliminated get to blind tasting. Shiro’s head is tilted, his prosthetic holding his plate in place, his other one dipping right into the food to taste it. 

 

Keith watches him carefully, only sparing a few glances to the others. The dish is probably some sort of a stew but Keith is not a stew-guy and he doesn’t spot meat from the red slop on the plates. Clearly Shiro finds something in it, because when the time comes to write down the ingredients they identified, Shiro smiles and begins to write immediately. 

 

One of the judges shouts out the instructions, the other one makes note of the time. The Masterchef-clock is familiar to all of them, like a terrifying, looming reminder that their time here is limited. 

 

“Shiro, you correctly identified the most ingredients,” one of the judges says with a smirk. “Well done.” 

 

Shiro rubs his neck. “I make something like this regularly at home.” His cheeks are pink. 

 

Keith rolls his eyes. “So modest, you dork,” he murmurs. He claps with the others as Shiro and his fellow contestants take their stations. 

 

Instantly Shiro’s easy smile and attitude melt away into a laser-like focus. Since he’s gotten almost every single ingredient right just by tasting, he has the most on his station. He starts with the lobster, breaks it up like a true professional, starts chopping up vegetables with lightning-speed. 

 

Keith watches it all with his teammates like a hawk, glances at the others from time to time, squints curiously at the judges who prowl between the stations and taste and ask questions. But always Keith’s gaze returns to Shiro’s bowed head and quick hands. While the others shout out encouragements to the more flustered contestants, Keith only shouts out a couple of questions, most of them at Shiro. 

 

And.

 

“You’re doing great, big guy! It smells nice!” 

 

It earns him a quick grin from Shiro. “Thanks, buddy!” Shiro yells back before getting back into it. He chops and stirs and boils, bends down for the oven and then straightens back up. He laughs out loud when one of the judges crack a joke. He drags his fingers through his hair and irritatingly most of it flops back down. 

 

Later on, Keith will tell the cameras he had zero doubt in his head that Shiro couldn’t do it.

“He’s like a particularly fancy version of James Dean in a way,” Keith will say. “Effortlessly breezing through life. I’d be jealous if he wasn’t so damn nice.”

 

But now he merely sniffs at the delicious smells drifting from downstairs and watches Shiro and the others plate up. Some have a better grasp at it, some pile their plates too much, some are way ahead. Like Shiro. His plates end up being rather simplistic and pretty, this one included. He messes up the sauce a bit and Keith nibbles on his lip. 

 

Only later they see who made it out: it wasn’t the most obvious choice to be eliminated, but at least it wasn’t Shiro.

 

Keith is the last one to hug him once Shiro and the others return to the house and does it as tightly as possible. 

“Good to have you back,” Keith murmurs against Shiro’s warm shoulder. 

Shiro kisses his hair. “Good to be back.”

 

*

Thankfully the kitchen in their shared house is massive. There might be less contestants by now, but over a ten people in one space is still a lot of people. Keith and Shiro find the right moments for their little baking lessons. They have a good relationship with the rest of the contestants so they make it work.

 

Tonight Shiro leads Keith to the right ingredients and bites the inside of his cheek. 

“I was thinking we could make eclairs today.” 

 

Keith lifts an eyebrow. “Just admit you were appalled by my latest pastry and want to fix it.” He crosses his arms. He looks unfairly good tonight too: his red bandanna around his bicep. There’s even a little scruff at his jaw that Shiro kind of wants to touch. 

 

Shiro’s cheeks colour. “Well, yes. And I have been teaching you some things from the start. And eclairs are pretty easy once you get the hang of it.”

 

“Just teasing you, big guy. So. Let’s start.”

 

“So, I already started pre-heating the oven. We need milk, butter, salt - oh, pick up flour too. I didn’t measure anything for you. I figured you’re a big boy.” 

 

“Says the big boy,” Keith says and meaningfully checks Shiro out from head to toe.

 

Shiro flushes. “Shut up. Just measure.”

 

Keith does as told. He’s in sweatpants and a faded tank top and his arms look toned and gorgeous. There is a heavy warmth at the bottom of Shiro’s stomach. Oh no. I might be in a deeper trouble than I thought. 

 

It takes time to get the dough right. Keith whisks. Shiro instructs. At one point he lays his hand on Keith’s wrist to lead his grip. If Shiro sees right, there is a pink hue on Keith’s cheeks too.

 

Then again, it could be just wistful thinking. 

 

In the end, they end up with a pile of beautiful, yet bumpy eclairs and too much chocolate sauce to eat. Keith’s hair is a mussed up mess but his eyes are glowing. Shiro has chocolate all over his shirt. 

 

“At least they’re done,” Keith says. 

“Not gonna be enough in the actual competition,” Shiro says and takes one. 

“Whatever. At least I know the basics now. Catch me trying this out and out-eclairing you.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Shiro bites into it. 

 

Keith watches him carefully, lips slightly parted, arms crossed again. “How is it?” 

 

Shiro licks a droplet of chocolate from the corner of his mouth and chews, swallows. “Very nice. The sauce ended up a little shifty in texture but - “ he trails off as he watches the grin widen on Keith’s face. “What?” 

 

“Just eat your eclair, you future masterchef-judge you,” Keith huffs and takes one himself. 

 

Shiro can’t quite stop himself from staring.

 

*Scene: mystery box challenge

 

With the weeks passing faster and faster, Shiro and Keith grow ever closer. Even as more contestants are eliminated, they still sleep in the same bunk bed and even share the same work station in the main kitchen. 

 

It becomes a bit of a running joke between the contestants: Shiro and Keith, two peas in a pod. They are each other’s greatest supports in the competition, they’re the first ones to hug each other after their cooks, the first ones to encourage each other. Shiro is the one Keith goes to when he has a problem. Keith is the one Shiro goes for advice when he feels too stuck in his own ways.

 

Shiro looks devastated the one time Keith’s team ends up losing the team challenge, sending all of them to the pressure test. 

 

The others witness them spending a long time at the house kitchen that night, talking with their foreheads pressed together, pouring over cookbooks. 

 

The judges seem rather understanding that if Keith is eliminated, some motivation, some light will go out from Shiro. 

 

“I have the utmost faith in Keith’s abilities,” is all Shiro says to the cameras. He barely manages to smile, his nerves eating him up from the inside. He checks through the recipe.

 

Even to him, it looks startlingly difficult. To Keith, who’s horrible at baking? Probably terrifying. Yet Keith stands with his back straight, ready to rock and roll. He’s even smirking. 

 

The dessert unveiled for them to reproduce is made by one of the youngest, one of the most successful pastry chefs in the country. She’s smiling serenely at the terror of the contestants’ faces. 

 

Except Keith.

 

What nerves and fear he has, he hides it. His nails dig into his own wrist. He glances at the balcony and winks at Shiro. 

 

They get to taste the dessert. Keith is the first one to the table, first one to dig his spoon into melted white chocolate. 

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs. The pastry’s skin cracks deliciously. Keith’s mind is already going back to the moments spent making pastries with Shiro and pouring over various recipes. Keith’s smirk doesn’t waver. 

 

The recipe has a ridiculous amount of bullet points to remember and a couple of techniques Keith only somewhat has practiced. 

 

But he only has to look up to know there’s a guardian angel watching over him.

 

It’s hard, it’s difficult, it’s a terrifying three hours that makes Keith’s grin fade away, sticks his shirt to his skin. He burns his hand twice but soldiers on. 

 

Once he presents his plate to the judges, he’s grimfaced but determined.

“I’m not going home,” he tells them.

 

It works.

 

Once he’s back in the house and in Shiro’s arms, he sighs long and deep.

 

*

The mystery box challenge includes the wildest, strangest ingredients. For once Shiro doesn’t get tasted. He rubs his neck and glances down at his poached chicken and knows he could do better. He’s proud when Keith wins the best five and gets to choose the ingredients for invention test.

 

Once Keith returns to his seat, Shiro pulls him to a hug and pats his back. “I’m so proud of you, buddy.” 

 

Keith grins. “Thanks.” 

 

Thankfully it’s a dessert challenge. Shiro gets to working on his gruyére and bacon souffle, while Keith elbows him subtly, as using savoury ingredients with desserts is mostly Keith’s thing. Keith himself gets to working on a pie. 

 

Shiro keeps glancing at him. 

 

Mostly because Keith has worn thin, tight black trousers today, accentuating his muscled, long legs almost too well. 

Shiro knows perfectly well how much attention souffles need. Still his gaze drifts. Shiro takes a moment to breathe and look around at the others. Delicious, inviting smells surround him, the clatter of pans and pots and the whirr of food processors. Shiro gets back into his headspace. 

He whisks a little side dish and waits for his souffle to cook. He peeks over at Keith’s side and notices Keith looking back at him.

“How’s it going?” Keith asks, hands covered in flour. His beauty makes Shiro’s heart ache.

“W-well.” Shiro swallows and gets back to his work. He whizzes through the final half an hour, increasingly distracted. 

 

He doesn’t expect to drop his damn souffle to the floor. It’s flat, it’s probably the worst souffle he’s ever done but at least it probably tastes good. But then Shiro spots Keith crouching to get his whipped cream out of the fridge, those obscenely tight pants stretching around his ass.

 

And Shiro’s grip just falters. 

The plate shatters.

 

With it, shatters Shiro’s dream of serving his stupid, flat souffle to the judges. He curses and hides his face. 

Keith jumps up, eyes wide. “Shiro,” he breathes out. 

 

Shiro at least has his side dish, a chocolate crumble and the sauce plated but it’s nothing. It will get him to the bottom three, no matter how nice they taste. 

Shiro stands there until the judges yell out the end of time. 

 

His face burns with embarrassment as the judges show such faces of disappointment at him. 

“I-I just got distracted,” is all Shiro manages to say.

 

*

*

**Imsomnias** @jamieson134

SHIRO’S SOUFFLE DID NOTHING WRONG  #MasterChefAU

 

**Love, Catherine** @birbprincess

Ok but from the scale of the Earth to Shiro’s souffle how flat are you?  #MasterChefAU

 

**Peter S** . @peterss2003

Oh wow i’m surprised Shirogane made such an amateur mistake. Then again the others don’t really hold a candle to his skills. It’s going to be an interesting pressure test.  #MasterChefAU

 

*

*

 

Ending up at the bottom three was not in the plans for Shiro. He’s not ever thought of himself a particularly prideful person but now his pride has definitely taken a blow. Really? Flattening his damn souffle, something he has done a hundred times? Unforgivable. And the worst? Dropping it to the floor. He hasn’t quite felt shame like that  _ ever. _

 

He’s still grimacing inwardly as takes the stage with the others under pressure. 

He listens to the instructions and keeps his hands clutched tight behind his back.

 

This time it’s an incredibly hard caramel tart, the glazing smooth and glossy, the surface of it like a small art piece. 

 

Sweat rises to Shiro’s skin. His heart thud-thud-thuds. He believes fully in his abilities to survive this, but the atmosphere is panicky, horrifying. 

 

He faintly registers the clapping from the balcony, faintly registers the shout from Keith - “You’ve got this, Shiro!” - before getting into it. The recipe is long and has an intimidating amount of things to do, but Shiro is used to being organized. He takes great care in reading through it and making a list of things to do for himself. 

 

Shutting his ears off the hustle around himself never comes very easy, but he manages. He’s grateful for all those long hours with his mother in their homely little kitchen. Even more grateful he’s to all those hours he’s spent over cookbooks and recipes, trying every single thing he can think of.

 

Mostly he’s thankful for this competition, forcing him to think through what he wants in his life.

 

He finds himself smiling at his tart shell and fruit jam. The fear evaporates into milk foam and glaze. 

 

The judges, once they reach his work station, comment on his chill stature.

“It’s just the way I am, I guess,” Shiro says and flushes when they laugh. Shiro glances at the balcony and flushes even deeper because Keith is watching, leaning against the railing like a model in a photoshoot. 

 

Just to keep up appearances, Keith cheers for the others once or twice but his focus is on Shiro.

 

With that determination and belief on his back, Shiro feels on top of the world. He almost forgets he’s in a pressure test, except for the incredible amount of time they have to make this tart and the sweaty contestants in the room with him. 

 

Stress nibbles at his heels but he determinedly keeps it at bay.

 

Once his tart is done, it’s a gorgeous replica of the one they had been presented with in the beginning. So maybe his glaze is a little uneven, his golden branches have cracked up a bit but he trusts himself. 

 

It’s not him who gets sent home, but another contestant, another friend. He hugs her tight and kisses her cheek. “You’ll do great,” he says. 

 

It’s Keith he takes into his arms once they are back at the house again. 

“I don’t want to be there ever again,” Shiro huffs, nuzzling against Keith. 

“You looked like you were having fun,” Keith whispers. 

“It’s only because you were there that I felt at ease,” Shiro finds himself saying and promptly blushing. 

 

*

 

The thing is, Shiro and Keith have probably invaded the house kitchen way too often. There are turns the contestants take in cooking but these two don’t care: they are there almost every single evening, cooking or baking or just fooling around. 

 

The others have gotten used to it already and gently tease both of them for not getting a room.

 

“We’re in a room,” Keith always answers. 

 

Shiro rolls his eyes fondly. 

 

Except today, there’s no one else in the kitchen. They’re trying their hand at making a mini croquembouche and are making more of a mess than actual results. 

“Shiro, I - I think me and caramel are never going to be friends.” It’s all over Keith’s apron. He hops onto the kitchen counter and sighs. His hair is a disheveled mess.

 

Shiro groans and runs his hand through his hair again. His fringe is beginning to stick up. “Just.. just try again. What if you end up at a pressure test and get faced with this? A bigger one? The real ones are huge.” 

 

“Worried for me, huh?” 

 

Shiro places his hands on his hips. “Of course I’m worried for you, Keith. I want you to be at the top two with me.” His cheeks are already warm because of the opened oven and the bubbling pot on the stove. But Keith’s eyes have heat deeper than any of those. Shiro swallows. He knows they’ve gotten a little too close for mere friends over the competition. 

 

But they’ve never really crossed that line. 

 

Keith’s mouth curls into a smirk. He reaches to grab the front of Shiro’s apron and pulls him between Keith’s legs. 

“Keith,” Shiro says, voice thick. The unfinished mini-croquembouche is all but forgotten.

“Why did you drop your souffle again?” Keith lets go, but only to run his finger down Shiro’s jaw. 

 

Shiro sweats. “I - I was just - “

“Because you were staring at me a lot during that cook. Don’t tell me I made you drop it.” Keith bites his lip. Shiro’s insides twist. 

 

He tries to get an answer out of his mouth, but then they hear footsteps and spring apart. Keith hops off the counter and dusts himself off. 

 

“Hey guys, practising stuff again?” Mila asks after stepping in. “It’s pretty late, you know.” 

 

Shiro shrugs. “It’s a hard one and Keith’s not quite the pastry chef I want him to be.” 

 

Keith kicks him gently in the ankle. 

 

*

Keith talks to his father when they’re allowed to Skype with their family members. Every time Keith asks after his mother, but Kieran merely shuffles awkwardly and tells him Krolia is busy. But that she’s watching the show when she can and that she sends her love. 

 

Keith wishes she’d say it to his face. 

 

Tonight it’s the night before yet probable mystery box challenge. Keith’s excited. He hopes it’s one of his favourite celebrity cooks that’s gonna offer that to them. He chats this and that with his father, who in turn tells him about his newest employee at his ranch. Kieran shows him pictures of how the horses are  doing. 

 

Finally Kieran asks him about Shiro. 

 

Keith freezes. 

 

_“It’s just,”_ Kieran scratches his temple. _“They’ve been editing a lot of scenes with the two of you together. It looks like you’ve become very good friends.”_

 

Keith’s turn to shuffle awkwardly. “Well yeah. He’s very nice.”

 

His father tilts his head. At least he’s smiling. _“I don’t know if you realize it, but a lot of your scenes together have ended up on the program. You look at him a lot.”_

 

Keith’s cheeks warm. He pulls the collar of his shirt up to his nose. “I .. I don’t.” So maybe he does. He goes to the work station next to Shiro automatically. It’s like his entire being is attuned to Shiro’s frequency. “Okay, I do. I expected to like these people and I do, but me and Shiro just have things in common. And he’s teaching me how to do pastries. You know how awful I am with desserts.”

 

His father laughs. _“Boy, you don’t even like desserts. Me and your mother were worried when you refused sweets even as a little kid.”_ His father’s smile and laugh are making Keith ache. 

 

It’s been months since he’s last seen him.

 

“He’s making me like sweets,” Keith finally says. 

 

Kieran’s smile is fond. _“I’ve never seen you look at anyone like that. I hope this doesn’t end when the show ends. Yes? I’ll come and see you if you make it to top two. When you make it to top two.”_

 

“I hope so too, dad. I miss you.” 

 

_ “Miss you too, son. Talk to you more later, yes?”  _

 

“Okay. Bye.” 

 

*

 

The next time there’s a mystery box challenge, Keith can’t stop grinning. 

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a grin on you, Keith. What’s up?” One of the judges asks. 

 

The guest judge, however, grins back. “Hey, Keith.” 

 

“Hunk and I are high school buddies,” Keith says. Waves at Hunk, who waves back. 

 

Hunk is a heavily tattooed Samoan pastry chef, married to his long-time best friend Lance and the owner of his own restaurant. Keith’s been following his career for years and is incredibly proud to see his friend flourish. 

 

“Don’t worry, guys,” Keith continues. “He might look like a giant gentle teddybear but he’s a damn hardass. I’m not expecting to be let easy even though we go way back.” 

 

Hunk laughs. “Exactly. Okay. Onto your benches. You can lift those boxes up.” 

 

Keith and Shiro have taken the front row. They share looks once the boxes are lifted. There’s coconut cream, tuna, bananas, taro, apple cider vinegar and coriander. It’s nothing Keith and Shiro don’t know. 

 

“Sweet?” Shiro asks.

 

“Why not,” Keith says. He picks taro,  bananas and the coconut. 

 

Shiro decides to go savoury so he begins by filleting his tuna. He glances up when Hunk and one of the judges comes by their station.

 

“What are you going for, Keith?” Hunk asks, his massive arms crossed. He looks like he could kick Shiro’s ass in a fight. Except he’s smiling brightly. 

 

Keith smiles back. “Believe it or not, but a pastry. My buddy here has been teaching me so I figured why not show those skills.” He points at Shiro. 

 

Shiro lowers his gaze, cheeks blooming. 

 

“That’s nice of him,” Hunk says. “Good choice, Keith. You making a consomme for it?”

 

“We’ll see,” Keith says. He does end up whipping the coconut cream and spicing it up with a little something he doesn’t admit out loud. 

 

His pie ends up smelling like heaven. Shiro hugs him tight once the cook ends. “So proud of you, champ,” he says, like he’s said every single time. 

 

“You too, Takashi,” Keith whispers, low enough that nobody but Shiro hears. 

 

Shiro’s not surprised when both him and Keith get tasted. Keith beats him with his perfectly smooth and delicious coconut-banana pie but Shiro doesn’t have it in him to be jealous. The smile that blooms on Keith’s face after being declared the winner of this challenge is enough.

As is the smile targeting Shiro after they both end up cooking for the immunity pin. Deepika elbows both of them to focus, although she can hardly stop herself from grinning either. They’re the best three of the day, after all. 

 

She cooks prawns, Shiro does pork and Keith, surprisingly, does chicken. 

 

It’s the little mistakes at this point that make or break a contestant. Shiro thinks of all of his fellow contestants as friends, so it’s easy to push away any shreds of frustration and jealousy when it’s not him who gets to battle for the immunity.

 

Keith takes on the opportunity, the challenge with his usual determination.

 

Shiro’s heart swells with admiration. Even though the chef Keith is going to be cooking against is no one else but Allura of the Alfor’s fame, a top chef at twenty-three who became one of Australia’s most noted sea food chefs. She’s rich, she’s famous, she’s married to the equally rich and famous screenwriter Lotor. 

 

She’s the very definition of a seafood princess. 

 

She shakes Keith’s hand and smiles sternly. 

 

She stands like a warrior, perfectly mirroring Keith’s posture. Shiro knows of her reputation. He’s been to Alfor’s exactly once and knows how and why it earned its Michelin star.

 

The judges tell them the rules. Allura says a few platitudes about keeping her reputation. Keith replies with a casual: “I have a little idea.” He’s wearing his red bandanna again to keep his hair from his face and his beautiful little earring glimmers with every shift of his body. 

 

Shiro claps for him the hardest when Keith and Allura take their places. 

 

Keith doesn’t seem too fazed. He goes for steak and no one is surprised: chops vegetables, some onions, places the slices to the pan to shizzle. His tiny ponytail bops with every step as he whizzes across his station. He slices, dices, leans down for his oven and even has time to share in on a joke with the mentor of the day. 

 

Shiro shouts a few instructions a couple of times, points out a few helpful advice. It earns him a private little smile from Keith and the fact that Keith takes his advice. 

 

Allura, however, is intimidating. Her speed and skill are clearly top-notch. It’s obvious why she has the reputation she has. She comes around to Keith’s side, offering her help and points out a couple of things. He takes it in a stride and smirks. 

 

Keith has practised plating up with Shiro. It seems to pay off, even though Keith adds a few rather unnecessary things, drizzles a little too much sauce. The delicious smells emanating from his and Allura’s dishes make Shiro’s stomach growl. 

 

“Good job, Keith!” He shouts. “Looking good, Allura!” She doesn’t spare a glance in his direction in her haste but Shiro can see her grin. 

 

Once they have offered their plates to the judges and the judges have appeared to the main kitchen again, the atmosphere expectant. 

 

“I hope Keith gets it,” Deepika whispers from next to Shiro. 

“Allura’s really good though,” Shiro whispers back, not taking his eyes off Keith. Keith’s flushed from his cook, his ponytail a little unravelled. He smiles faintly, crooked with each points the judges reveal. He gets 28. 

 

Him and Allura share a look.

 

Allura nods when her points are revealed, leaving her at 29. She smiles, proud. Her and Keith share a friendly hug and she offers her congratulations. 

 

After Keith’s loss, after they have all returned to the house, they sit down on Shiro’s bed. 

“Are you angry you lost?” Shiro tugs on his pyjamas pants. “One point difference is amazing.” 

 

“A little,” Keith shrugs. “It’s the last pin of this season, after all. All the chefs we’ve had have been incredibly good though. Even you couldn’t beat one of them.” He flops down on his back to the bed. 

 

“Ah, well. That was.” Shiro rubs his neck. “You did amazing, though. It smelled amazing.” 

 

Keith watches him. “I’m beginning to think you like me or something, Takashi.” 

 

Shiro’s neck warms. “Of course I like you. I like all of you.” He lowers his gaze to his lap. “You are special to me, though.” 

 

*

*

**K** @crinoline

So proud of Keith. #MasterChefAU

 

**Imsomnias** @jamieson134

Not surprised Allura won tbh. She’s amazing. But Keith’s dish looked really good. I think Shiro would agree. #MasterChefAU

 

*

*

 

The weeks pass incredibly quickly. Neither ends up at the bottom three again or the losing team. They prowl through various challenges with varying degrees of success. They practice various techniques together and have way too many moments when they’re almost caught by the others.

 

They touch more often: hands on shoulders, on lower backs. 

 

They never quite cross that line to more. Dancing on it, tickling that line. Whispered encouragements to each other. More and more shared, intimate lessons in the kitchen. More often than not they find themselves close to each other, breathing in the same air.

 

Later, Keith thinks.

 

Later, Shiro thinks.

 

*

*

 

Later comes a couple of weeks later, the evening before their final test. The house is now empty except for them. So they have invaded the living room and have spread out on the couch, a pile of cookbooks next to them.

 

Neither is reading. 

 

Keith is straddling Shiro, their foreheads pressed together. They’ve been talking for the entire evening, unable to separate from each other anymore. Outside, the world goes on. Inside, it’s just the two of them.

“Tomorrow,” Keith whispers, arms wrapped around Shiro’s neck. 

“Tomorrow. Are you nervous?” 

“My nerves are made of steel,” Keith huffs. He keeps his eyes closed. “I’m nervous for you.” He grabs Shiro’s hand, brings it to his chest. Keith’s heart is racing. 

 

Both open their eyes.

“I’d love for you to win,” Shiro whispers. 

“I could. But so could you.” Keith’s mouth curls into a grin. “I have a little idea for you, big guy.” He caresses Shiro’s jaw, bites his lip. “If you win - “ Keith runs his finger down Shiro’s chest. “If you win, then I’m going to give you the kiss you desperately need.” 

 

Shiro swallows hard, his hands dropping down to Keith’s thighs, pressing hard into them. They are so close, so very close. Keith’s breath is hot on his face, Keith’s thighs pressing against him. “And if you win, what then?” 

Keith runs his tongue over his lips, his gaze on Shiro’s lips. “When I win, big guy, you will see what I want.” He lifts his fingers to Shiro’s mouth. “Besides from just wrecking you until you cry out my name. Besides that.” 

 

Shiro groans. “You’re killing me.” He shifts, his forehead dropping against Keith’s shoulder. “We’ve been dancing around each other for months.” He wraps his arms around Keith and squeezes tight. “You’re the reason I even ended up in the pressure test for the first time.” 

Keith wraps his arms around Shiro as well, wraps his legs around Shiro’s waist. “I still can’t believe you found my ass so distracting that you messed up your souffle. That poor souffle.” 

“It’s all your fault,” Shiro says, burrowing his face tighter against Keith’s shoulder. “You are too hot for your own good.”

 

*

*

**Nina** @ninarssons

As much as I’ve grown to love Keith during the competition, I have a feeling Shiro’s got this.  #MasterChefAU

 

**Savantgarden** @c.a.therine

Shiro’s made me cry multiple times during this show and now he’s up against his best buddy in this show i don’t even know how to feel   #MasterChefAU

 

**Shiro’s girl** @shadowofwind

Is it just me or is there interesting tension between Shiro and Keith. Idk if it’s just the editing but they seem like they’re the closest out of everyone  #MasterChefAU

 

**Savantgarden** @c.a.therine

_ In answer to user @shadowofwind _

They’re hugging all the time. I don’t think I can prefer one over the other, they’re both so sweet.  #MasterChefAU

 

**Imsomnias** @jamieson134

I'm so thirsty for Keith you might as well just call me Shiro #MasterChefAU

 

*

*

 

Keith definitely expects to see his father. Kieran has been keeping the most in touch with Keith throughout the competition, eager to hear from his son, while Keith’s mother Krolia has only checked in once a month as her job takes her across the world and keeps her incredibly busy. 

 

So it’s no wonder Keith’s eyebrows shoot at the sky when she walks through the kitchen-doors, arm linked with Keith’s father. Keith’s eyes begin to prickle with tears. They surprise him, he presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. 

 

“Mom?” 

 

Krolia pops up her sunglasses and winks.

 

After them, arrive a stylish Japanese couple. The woman is tiny, the man almost a head taller. They both nod their heads when they arrive but only the woman breaks into a smile when Shiro hurries to them and wraps them both into a huge hug. 

 

Keith gets wrapped into a hug of his own, squeezed between his father’s coarse flannel shirt and his mother’s sharp black suit. 

“How’s it going, son?” Kieran asks and rubs his back. 

“So proud of you, honey,” Krolia says and kisses his forehead.

 

So many kisses and hugs are shared. Both Shiro and Keith lead their families to the front, to the judges. Keith finds himself sniffling back tears, determinedly biting the inside of his cheek. He’s holding the hands of both of his parents. 

 

Shiro has his arms wrapped around both of his parents. He introduces them, smiling proudly, eyes glistening.

 

Keith introduces his, actually blushes when Krolia kisses his cheek. “I’m so proud of my son, obviously.” 

“Mom - “ 

“Shush, honey.” 

 

Shiro glances his way. He’s never seen Keith make such a sweet face. Shiro listens to his own mother tell the judges in her accented English that she’s watched every episode and loves him to bits, no matter what happens. Shiro’s father nods, murmuring his confirmation.

 

*

Cooking for their loved ones is an added bonus they both need to amp up the determination. They wish each other good luck and get to it. 

 

Through the shouts of encouragement and advice from their families and the previous contestants watching from the balcony, they get through the round of the first dish. Keith does his preferred red meat, Shiro does tonkatsu. 

 

“My mom’s my toughest critic,” Shiro says fondly. 

 

She smiles at him at that. “Only because I know you can do incredible things.”

On the other table, Keith smiles softly at the sight of his parents and the judges eating his dish. 

“It’s delicious, honey,” Krolia says. She wipes her mouth and sends him a flying kiss.

“Wonderful job,” Kieran says. He’s holding hands with Krolia under the table like teenagers. “Proud of you, kiddo.” 

 

In the end, Keith wins that round. He’s two points ahead of Shiro. Shiro pulls him close to himself and kisses his temple. 

 

The last round is a pressure test. Their families and the previous contestants watch on from the balcony as the two battle it out. There’s the laser focus Shiro is known for. There’s the fierce determination that had got Keith through the rest of the competition. 

 

The dessert they replicate is insane, the recipe five pages long.

 

But neither shows signs of wear or tear. 

 

Once it’s over, they hug each other for a good, long while. 

 

Then it’s over.

 

The dust finally settles. The two of them wait patiently, standing side by side, Shiro’s hand on Keith’s shoulder. 

“You did great,” Shiro whispers.

“Same,” Keith whispers back. 

Both of them keep their faces casual, their backs straight. Keith looks as sharp as his knives in the pure white chef jacket. Shiro’s own is straining against his considerable muscles. He’s biting his lip. 

 

They and the entire audience listens to the judges compliment them. They listen to the criticism, to each individual detail laid bare. 

 

“And that’s why, Shiro, it’s you who wins this year’s MasterChef.” The excitement in the room rises up to astronomical levels. 

“Congratulations, buddy. You’ve done a phenomenal job and it’s been a pleasure to watch your journey,” the judge continues, grin widening. “As well as you, Keith, you put the pressure on Shiro and it was this close. This close that it wasn’t you. Congratulations, once again, Shiro.” 

 

Someone squeaks. Shiro’s lips part. He seems to have lost his voice. 

 

Keith squeezes his arm. “You are the only one I’m happy to lose to,” Keith says and then moves, fast, grabs the lapels of Shiro’s chef jacket and yanks him down to kiss him hard, right on the mouth, right in national television. 

 

Gasps echo in the room around them, the clapping stopping. Keith grins as he parts from a flabbergasted, flustered Shiro. 

“Congrats, big guy.”

 

*

 

**Savantgarden** @c.a.therine

DID THAT JUST HAPPEN #MasterChefAU

 

**Imsomnias** @jamieson134

Is this a rom-com or #masterchefau because i can’t fucking tell anymore hasklfhsdgldsg oh m ygod did you guys see Shiro’s FACE

 

**Love, Christie** @principessa

W hat whatt twell.. That’s… one way to deal with losing, I guess?? I guess all those looks they shared weren’t nothing or just friendship. #MasterChefAU

 

**Peter S** . @peterss2003

An expected win for Shirogane. Rather unprofessional to not edit out that kiss, but it figures that a reality tv show wants to keep up the drama. Still. Congratulations to Shirogane. A deserved win. #MasterChefAU

 

**Kelly** @katamaris

I didn’t expect that at ALL. I mean, it was obvious Shiro was going to win although Keith’s put up some incredible stuff but like.. I thought they were just good friends?? Hloly fuck. Answer us @t-shiro where did this come from?? #MasterChefAU

 

*

*

 

AN EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH THE WINNER OF MASTERCHEF AUSTRALIA 20XX

 

**The winner of this year’s MasterChef Australia ended up being the audience favourite, 30-year-old Takashi Shirogane, a personal trainer from Chiba, Japan. Known for his intricate eye for detail and intriguing ideas of fusing traditional Japanese recipes with western ones.**

 

I: First of all, mister Shirogane - 

S: Oh, please, call me just Shiro. My father is mister Shirogane.

I: Alright. Lovely. First of all, Shiro. Congratulations on the well-deserved win!

S: Thank you so much. 

I: So. How does it feel? Already got a plan in mind for your rewards? 

S: Obviously. I’ve had it since I applied for the competition. The car of course helps. It means I can finally drop my old Toyota. 

I: Not going tell us? 

S: Not yet. I have big plans. But I think people who follow me on social media already know a little something. Also: it feels amazing. I am very happy with my final menu and obviously, that I got to finally see my parents. That they both came all the way from Japan to see me cook. They’re my biggest fans though. 

 

**It’s no wonder that spending six months in close quarters with food and 23 other people does things to the human brain. And it’s no wonder that friendships are born in those 24 people. Both the crew and the audience began to take notice that a certain friendship was born between two contestants, who ended up being the final two.**

 

I: Care to tell us a little bit about Keith?

S: What would you like to know? *chuckles*

I: obviously there is the elephant in the room, aka that kiss. But like said, it is not unusual that such a long, hard journey makes friends. It’s not unusual to find friends for life. But you and Keith seemed to have the closest bond out of all the contestants. Where did that come from? 

S: eh. Heh. Well. *blushes* We just kinda bonded. Most of us bonded kinda out of the obligation of having to live under the same roof adn doing team challenges and encouraging each other. Keith has relatives in Japan as well so we kind of went from there. He’s a phenomenal cook and a great friend and I am proud to call him that.

I: From where we’re looking, Shiro, it rather looks like more than friendship. 

S: Ehh, well. Things could go this way or that way. I am not denying that we aren’t close. Keith definitely became my greatest support on the show. 

I: He did mention it out loud that you taught him how to make pastries. 

S: Yes. He saw that I find most pastries rather easy and he found them very difficult so I was happy to help. In turn, he gave me more ideas as I am kind of stuck in my ways.

I: Yes, that main course at the end was absolutely genius. From both of you.

S: Thank you. ANd yes, it was. It came down to the tiniest things that it was me who won and not Keith.

 

*

 

“So, your interview came out,” is the first thing Keith says as he steps inside Shiro’s apartment. Keith’s smirking. 

 

Shiro peeks from the kitchen. “And you came all the way here to tell me that?” He retreats back to his parsnip salad. 

 

Keith joins him a few moments later, sliding himself behind Shiro to embrace him and smash his face against Shiro’s neck. “A phenomenal cook, huh?” 

 

Shiro blushes.

 

Keith grins and kisses his neck, reaches up to squeeze Shiro’s chest teasingly. “A great friend, huh?” Keith slips his hands under Shiro’s apron and his shirt. 

 

“Stop it,” Shiro huffs but has a hard time keeping the laughter out of his voice. 

 

“Greatest support,” Keith whispers. “I like the sound of that. How about boyfriend? The only one allowed to fuck you into the mattress?” He slips his hands further up under Shiro’s shirt to pinch his nipples. 

 

Shiro jolts. His neck burns. “Yeah. That.” He leaves his parsnips alone and turns his head. Keith’s hair tickles his nose. “I meant every word, baby.” 

 

Keith sighs. He caresses Shiro gently. “You know, I was kinda bitter about losing but not that much. After all, I won this.” He nuzzles Shiro’s cheek and kisses it. 

 

“Who knew Keith Kogane, the self-proclaimed punk - “ “I’ve never called myself a punk!” “- would be such a cheesy adorable little cupcake.” Shiro pulls Keith’s hand off himself and turns around, pulls Keith against him.

 

“A cupcake,” Keith grumbles.

 

“If I could, I’d eat you up just like that,” Shiro says and rubs his cheek against the top of Keith’s head.

 

“You’re so lame.”

 

“And you like it.” 

 


End file.
